


In the Shadows

by Pixeled



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Breakups, M/M, Makeups, Passion, light and dark, stormy relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 06:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15479715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixeled/pseuds/Pixeled
Summary: Written to "In the Shadows" by Foreign AirAn AU fic.





	In the Shadows

It was a cold night in November and the air was crisp and twinkled after a fresh snow in that way that virgin snow did before it was destroyed by cars and people and dogs. But now it was like a barren wasteland, only he was on the other side of it.

 

Noctis was drinking whiskey in a crowded bar, his scarf and coat still on like he might leave at any moment, but the bartender had his credit card and he was on his fifth drink. It was lively and people were laughing and it sounded tinny in his ears, annoying and loud and constant.

 

Revenge drinking.

 

There had been a big fight and they’d broken up again. He’d stormed out of the apartment, their stuff strewn around like a battlefield, the shattered glass and broken dreams echoing in his mind.  

 

As he got drunker, the bar shifted and slid into a sinister place rather than one of comfort, the people’s faces growing sharper, washed out so that the only thing he saw was skin and teeth. And it was oppressively warm, but he dared not undress.

 

And then he saw him across the way.

 

He’d torn his halo down and left him in the dark with all the thoughts he’d never wanted to cozy up to. There was no light here, only true darkness, all the intentions of others like barbed knives.

 

His face looked illuminated under the harsh lights which strobed to the tune of whatever song throbbed through his clothes and made his bones ache. The whiskey turned sour rather than smooth and he tried not to choke as it went down his throat, cheap.

 

And then he was coming closer, his smile a weapon Noctis would have to bear.

 

“We weren’t done,” he says, and it’s silky smooth and filled with so much intention.

 

But Noctis won’t fall victim to that again. No, not this time.

 

But then Ardyn is sliding a 20 into the bartender’s hand and he’s receiving his own whiskey and he’s sipping it while looking over the rim at Noctis and his eyes are full of want.

 

No, Noctis thinks, I have to get the light back, I have to make it bright again.

 

But the darkness is strong and warm and like a blanket, and he’s familiar and his eyes scream sex and they’re kissing, the whiskey making it overly sweet and like too much sugar, it fills his chest with remorse even as he’s kissing back.

 

The darkness is here to stay and his halo is wrapped around Ardyn’s little finger. Their promise ring throbs on his ring finger and he remembers that he forgot to take it off and now it’s too late. Ardyn is pressing him back in the chair and drinking from his font of hate, making it dull.

 

It’s been like this for what seems like eons. They fight and they make up, only to fight again. And it’s senseless and terrible but it’s beautiful all the same because he swears it’s over and then it’s not and Ardyn is the only one who understands what he needs. And it’s almost like he craves violence and the silence it leaves beyond.

 

And then they’re trudging through the snow, Ardyn dragging him to his car and once they’re there he pushes Noctis into the passenger seat and crawls into his lap to lick the inside of his mouth with his tongue, his bigger body framing him and blocking out the twinkling stars of the night, the beautiful snow. And they’re kissing now with equal hunger. Ardyn tips Noctis’s head back and kisses him where his throat meets his jaw. A chorus of bad decisions follows him in this wake, and it’s almost like a funeral, but a bad one, all the faces accusatory rather than remorseful. And he has no remorse as he grinds his hips up against Ardyn’s, the hardness in his pants mirroring his.

 

Soon Ardyn is pulling his pants down in the car and no one exists but him as he undoes his own pants. And they grind and roll their hips, Ardyn maneuvering in the small space as if he’d done this before. And then suddenly it all stops, but Noctis’s mind keeps going as if it’s spinning with what is to come.

Ardyn tucks him back into his pants and then he puts the car in drive and goes off to the scene of the crime. And the drive is short and filled with panting breaths, Noctis’s hand in Ardyn’s lap, teasing. There are no cars on the road and the world seems empty, like they’re gods charged with making the world right. But nothing about this is right, and it will end in ruin. And Noctis doesn’t care.

They’re through the door in what seems like no time at all and Noctis is slammed up against it, seeing stars, but different ones. They don’t twinkle and he counts them for but a moment while Ardyn works at his clothes, pulling his scarf free, undoing the buttons on his corduroy jacket with the fur and tugging his gloves free to kiss at his palms and on that ring that binds them together as if he knows he’s lucky it’s still there. And then they’re kissing again, hot and heavy, and Ardyn’s nimble fingers find Noctis’s five-button jeans and tug them apart like its nothing and the air hits him in a way that makes him stiff just knowing what’s to come.

 

Ardyn kneels before him, shedding scarf and coat to wrap his hand around Noctis’s stiffened cock. He looks up with a cruel smirk and engulfs him in one solid motion, his tongue curling along the sensitive underside of his cock where the vein passes along it and Noctis shivers, and not from the cold, but the warm heat of Ardyn’s mouth and soon he’s sucking powerfully and Noctis’s knees feel weak.

 

It doesn’t take him long to come down Ardyn’s throat. But this isn’t over. Not yet.

 

Ardyn is looking up at him with so much in his eyes. It’s not a stretch to remember how Noctis had gasped that he loved him earlier in the day. Perhaps everything is clearer in the sunlight. But always at night they trade choice words and he remembers their breaks and how he stayed faithful through them as if knowing he could not find anything as fiery as Ardyn’s love and ire. Why? He wonders, but it’s not long before he’s dragged into the bedroom and tossed on the bed, arms going up on his elbows to watch Ardyn stalk him.

 

And then he’s moaning again, Ardyn’s cock finding its way home. He’d always said that, that being inside Noctis, being with him, that it felt like home. And it feels wonderful and perfect and he comes to the realization that this is all he needs. He knows he will regret it later, but for now he’s getting closer and closer and he knows he will see stars.

 

And he does.

 

And he doesn’t regret it.

 

He feels whole when Ardyn drags his halo down from off his crown and makes him shudder. And if Ardyn would be the dark, then he’d be the light, trading blows until the end of time.


End file.
